Fix Me
by mellowmoon
Summary: AU: Temari is persuaded to see a psychologist to help her cope with her brothers, her peers, and her past. Shikamaru handles his grief poorly and is forced into counselling. With good old doctor/patient confidentiality, neither has to know that the other is a different kind of messed up. T for language
1. The First Session

**A/N: Reviews would be lovely! To be honest, in terms of research I did none; this is just a little fun fic I thought was a good idea at 2 in the morning.  
First fic, I don't own Naruto bla bla bla. **

Temari sat with her legs crossed and her back straight. The couch was pale brown suede, but she didn't trust her surroundings enough to get comfortable. She didn't trust any room that was nothing but neutral tones and had 'paintings' of solid grey. Neutral tones were institutions and nut houses and people in white that told you calm down while they stuck you with a needle. She tapped her black vinyl combat boots on the hardwood floor. It was warm, but she felt safer in her leather jacket than out of it.

A door opened on the wall adjacent revealing a blonde woman who looked to be in her late thirties.

_Thank God Kankurou isn't here, _she thought, taking note of the woman's sizable bust. She looked up from her clip board and smiled softly. "You must be Temari," she said, crossing the room and holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Tsunade."

Tsunade took a seat opposite after Temari's tentative handshake.

"So how are you, Temari?"

"Fine."

Tsunade raised a brow as Temari picked at a hole in her shorts. "It says here that Baki recommended me to you."

Temari stared her down. "Yep." She hated shrinks. All her life she'd met with one therapist after the other. They were easy to fool once you knew the right words to say. But Baki wasn't so easy to pull the wool over. The moment he smelled even a whiff of trouble, he sent her packing.

Tsunade pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose with a manicured hand. Rich and full of shit is how Temari knew all these psycho-freaks. "So why are you here, Temari," Tsunade asked calmly, ignoring the attitude in Temari's one worded answers. Temari grimaced. She was too old to be acting this way.

"Baki asked me to." Despite the fact that Baki was a social worker, he was probably the only adult Temari had ever relied on. He was there when she was fourteen, and Gaara had set fire to his school's sports shed. He drove Kankurou to the hospital when she found him with his head in a public toilet after a long night of under-aged drinking. He bailed Temari out when she ended up coiled in a cell after she broke a guy's nose and dislocated his shoulder for putting his hands on her. When her father died she thought her life had reached its peak, only to discover it had collapsed a long, long time ago.

"So you came here willingly."

"I couldn't say no," Temari said. "He wanted me to get help, so I got help."

"You think a lot of Baki." Tsunade made a little note on her clipboard. Temari hated that. She wanted to get a little notepad of her own and make little secret notes too, just to spite the pretty blonde woman across from her.

"He's worked with my family for years now," she said indifferently.

"Do you see him as a father figure?"

Temari bit her lip and narrowed her eyes. Shrinks loved to play the daddy card with her. "It's hard to say. I'm not sure what a real father is supposed to be like. If you mean violent and alcoholic, then no, I don't think of Baki as a father figure. I've never seen him backhand a ten year-old boy."

"Is that what your father did?" Tsunade looked at the file in front of her. "To Gaara?"

She smiled. "Wouldn't you love to know," she drawled sarcastically.

Tsunade pushed her glasses up again. "I think knowing all about you and your family will help me better understand your situation. You'll only get as much as you give."

It sounded rehearsed, but Temari stopped picking at the hole in her shorts. If she behaved well, she might be able to get Tsunade to write the school a letter and lift her suspension early.

"Why don't we talk about why you're here," Tsunade said after a moment of silence.

"I've already told you; Baki asked me to."

" You haven't sought counselling in two years now," she replied, holding up Temari's history. "Something must have happened."

Temari clenched her teeth. She wasn't sure what was worse; talking about her dysfunctional family, or her suspension from school.

"I punched a girl," Temari admitted. She did more than that, but it was probably best not to mention it. Tsunade remained expressionless. "I think her name was Tayuya. It was only a warm up race, and she decided to call me a slut after I won."

"So you hit her."

"I told her to back off or she'd get hurt," she said with a smirk and a shrug. "I warned her. She tried to stab me with her flute so I kicked her ass." She probably looked like Kankurou, with his stupid shit eating grin. He pulled the same sadistic smile every time he won a fight.

"You're very bothered by comments regarding your sexual activity."

Temari narrowed her eyes, unsure if she was being judged. She'd only had one boyfriend in all her eighteen years. It turned out he was telling all his friends about the stuff they did (or didn't) do in the bedroom. His friends told their friends and it wasn't long before boys were asking her for hand jobs in the hallways. "I'm not a slut," she said evenly.

Tsunade smiled. "I'm not saying you are. But you obviously don't like being considered promiscuous."

"Why should I," Temari almost shouted. "It's not true."

"Wanting to sleep with someone doesn't decrease your worth."

"It doesn't shut mouths either," she snapped.

Tsunade made another note in her stupid little notepad. "You care a lot about what other people think," she said without looking up.

"I don't," Temari replied stubbornly.

"You want Baki's approval."

"That's different."  
"You punched a girl for calling you a whore."

"Slut- and she started it, not me."

Tsunade placed the clipboard on the little glass table to her right. "I'm not trying to say that other people's opinions of you don't matter- in some cases they do. But you don't have to prove that you're strong, and you don't have to please everyone. Focus on your own pleasure first."

Temari uncrossed her legs and sank back into the couch. The suede smelled new, and she sank her fingers into the creases. She hadn't even gone into detail about her childhood, and yet she had confessed more to Tsunade than any of her other shrinks combined. Temari cocked her head to the side. "Did you just recommend that I masturbate-"

"Your time is up," Tsunade said with a quick glance at her silver watch. Temari swore she saw a little smile on the doctor's lips. "I'll see you tomorrow. Please close the door as you exit."

Temari stifled a laugh as she closed the large oak door behind her. So Tsunade was rich, though not as full of shit as Temari may have initially thought. She had two weeks left of academic suspension, and just as many days of sitting on that stupid brown couch before the sessions became weekly and she could breathe without the scent of heavy perfume in her lungs. Somehow Tsunade hadn't been patronizing, and in ways it felt good to talk to her. Her boots tapped the ground as she made her way out of the office and thought that maybe for a shrink, Tsunade wasn't too bad.

* * *

Shikamaru sat at a bench on the busy street watching the buses go by. A man frantically weaved through the sea of people, running onto the lanes as cars stopped to honk. Idiot. Didn't he know how easy it was to die? He took a long drag of his cigarette and sighed. His appointment with Tsunade was in ten minutes, and he was only a block away. He could go, like his parents urged him to, but he didn't see the point. Plus, the sky was nice today. It just seemed easier to watch the clouds go by than to open his mouth and list off his problems to a woman who probably didn't even give a damn.

"Can you not smoke here?"

He turned. A girl with bristly blonde hair had taken a seat beside him. She had the fiercest expression he'd ever seen on a woman, and that meant a lot considering some of the looks his mom gave him.

He contemplated the cigarette in his hand. He could get up and smoke somewhere else, but that seemed like too much of a hassle. He could tell her off, but he had the feeling she punched harder than he did. This was too troublesome to even think about.

"I'm outside," was all he could come up with. He took another drag.

Before he could stop her, she reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. Great, she was a health activist and a thief.

"You're also under-aged," she said, pointing to his school card with a triumphant grin on her face. "Now put it out or I call the cops."

He groaned and stamped the stub out with his shoe. "Troublesome," he muttered.

The girl smiled and leaned in. Her eyes were a dangerous teal. "Did you say something?"

When had he lowered himself to picking fights with girls? He said nothing and went back to attacking the ground with his foot.

"Jeez, you really are just a kid," she said, returning his wallet which he stuffed back into his pocket. "What's a high school student doing with a pack of smokes?"

She couldn't just leave him alone, could she? He looked up at the sky and hoped maybe she'd get the hint and stop talking.

"So Konoha High," she asked suddenly. He turned. Her hands rested at the tops of her crossed legs, giving him a decent view of cleavage from her black v-neck shirt. From the leather jacket to the black boots, everything told him she was a force to be reckoned with; a force he didn't want to get mixed up in. "That's a pretty swanky school. Not as good as Suna in terms of academics, though. If all the freshmen smoke like you, then I'm betting Suna has sports in the bag as well."

"What makes you think I'm a freshman," he asked sourly.

She laughed. He wasn't sure what he had expected; something harsher, maybe, or deeper. Her laugh was surprisingly nice. "You groan like an old man, but you don't look it. I'm not sure at all."

He grinned with her. "You're not wrong," he conceded. "But Konoha has smarter students than you think."

"Good luck then," she said. "Konoha has a good reputation; almost as good as Suna."

He raised a brow. The two schools were both highly ranked, and constantly vied against each other in terms of sports, arts, and academics. Even graduates didn't get along with their old rival schoolmates. "I take it you're an alumna," he said, scratching the back of his head. "Things have changed since you graduated."

"I'm a first year university student." She scowled. "How old do you think I am?"

Shikamaru decided he would've guessed mid twenties by the way she held herself. She had an awareness and confidence he didn't see in the girls his age. Plus, he didn't think teen girls willingly approached shady guys at bus stops, even if they were only fifteen. The look on her face said the best answer to her question was none at all.

"Smart boy," she said when she realized he wasn't going to reply. She re-crossed her legs. Men glanced at her as they passed. One even came up and pestered her for a number.

"Beat it loser," Temari snarled. "Can't you see I'm with my boyfriend?" She inched closer and wrapped Shikamaru's free arm around her shoulders. Sandy hair brushed lightly across his face as well as the faint scent of coconut. A shiver ran up his spine beyond his control, not unlike the woman pressed against his side. Smooth fingers wrapped around his as she glared down the man who finally decided to retreat.

"So I'm your boyfriend now," he said once they were alone. She blinked and didn't miss a beat to bother being embarrassed. She was prettier up close, with that mysterious smile.

She unhooked his arm from around his shoulders, but didn't move away. "Usually I like a proper introduction before I commit to a relationship, but I can make an exception."

"Nara Shikamaru," he said, holding out his hand.

She stood up and shook it promptly. "Temari."

"Just Temari?"

She cocked her hip to the side and looked at him down her nose. "Stranger danger, buddy: either one of us could be a psycho."

Temari knew his full name, the school he went to, and looked capable of emasculating any man in her way; and _she _was the one worried about psychos? She checked over her shoulder as a bus pulled up. "That's me. I'll see you around, kid." She waved as she boarded but ran back out a second later. "I almost forgot." Temari rifled through her bag and handed him a small package of nicotine gum. "There aren't a ton of girls who dig a guy whose mouth tastes like an ashtray."

She turned to leave and stopped again. _What is it this time_, he thought.

"I don't know where you're going," she said. "But you'd better get off your lazy ass and be where you're supposed to be. Believe it or not, the earth will still turn if you die glued to that bench. Good luck."

She waved over her shoulder as she sashayed to the bus which honked multiple times before she sped up, yelling in frustration.

Shikamaru stared at the pack in his hands. A small part of him hoped she had written her number on it. He inspected every square inch and put it in his pocket with a sigh. There wasn't even a pencil indent.

"Women," he grumbled. Maybe he should've asked- no, that would've been too much trouble, and trouble was one thing he liked to reduce in his life. _The earth will still turn... _Asuma was gone and somehow the world hadn't broken down with him. There were still idiots who believed cars would come to a halting stop if they crossed. He got up and walked.

"You're half an hour late," Tsunade said sternly. Shikamaru took a seat across from her and wilted under her glare.

"Sorry," he said, taking out a stick of gum and chewing. "I was talking to this weird girl."


	2. The Second Session

**A/N Please review!**

"You seem troubled," Tsunade said. Temari picked at her nails and wondered how Tsunade kept hers so nice. Temari remembered the one time she tried to paint her nails. They chipped off in minutes. Tsunade must repaint them daily, or pay someone to do them-

"Did something happen since I saw you yesterday?"

Even her toes were manicured. Ten fingers, ten toes, how much was that per week? More than Temari made at her measly part-time job. At least she hadn't been suspended from that-

"This is your time, Temari. I suggest you utilize it."

"Gaara got in trouble," Temari blurted. "I found out yesterday. He was trying to keep it from me."

Tsunade nodded, "Your little brother."

"I have two little brothers, though they're not so little anymore. Gaara's the youngest."

"What did he do?"

Temari let out a desperate chuckle. "That's the thing; no one will tell me." An angry mother knocked on their door last night and spent an hour screaming at Temari about how Gaara had picked on her sweet baby boy. Her sweet, six foot, two hundred pound boy. Temari was stunned. The woman left demanding a well versed apology, which Gaara agreed to if she would just leave. "Every time I ask him what happened, all I get is a grunt." She rolled her eyes, "You know how teen boys are."

Tsunade smiled, "Yes, I have a few of them as patients."

"Even worse."

"They're not too bad; all they really need is a good stick of deodorant." No wonder the room smelled of heavy perfume. "Maybe Gaara won't tell you what happened because of the way you ask."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're blunt," Tsunade said carefully. Temari's face gave her annoyance away, but she let the psychologist go on. "You speak your mind. That's not a bad thing, but maybe Gaara sees your directness as an attack. Try talking to him, and not about how he got in trouble. He may reveal that to you in his own time."

She remembered the way Gaara avoided her eyes when she confronted him. After an hour of asking, she felt more like an interrogator than a sister, and gave up in self disgust. Talking to Gaara was hard to begin with, and she didn't want to fuck everything up. He was really starting to mellow out.

"He used to set fires, you know." She bit her lip. "My father died in a fire." It took a while for Temari to realize what she had just insinuated. "Gaara had nothing to do with my father's death," she said quickly. She was about seventy percent sure. "I'm just worried about him. Is that messed up? I'm the one who got suspended, not Gaara."

"Not at all, it makes sense for you to be concerned." Tsunade made a note, and Temari didn't bother asking what she meant. She still had yet to confess she feared Gaara for the better part of her life. In her nightmares she woke to the smell of burning flesh, singed hair and a room of devouring flames; but maybe that was for another session. Tsunade finished writing. "If it makes you feel any better, Baki recommended that Gaara see me as well."

Temari wasn't sure how to take that. Tsunade was receiving far too much insight into her crazy. But if it helped Gaara, she couldn't complain.

The session ended after another half hour of talking about her job and her crappy pay. If Tsunade knew Temari was trying to divert her attention, she didn't show it.

The street was crowded with students, tourists and office workers on break. Temari weaved through the mass as best she could and checked her boots every now and then to make sure they didn't get too scuffed. Temari wasn't materialistic, but they were her favourite of everything she owned. Her shoulder collided with another, and she barreled into someone's chest.

"Watch it," she yelled behind her, searching for the man who had knocked her over. It was impossible to spot anyone in these crowds.

"Not you again."

Temari faced her front and almost laughed. The Konoha High boy with the lazy attitude and black ponytail stood with his hands in his pockets. He looked like he was considering turning around and ignoring her, but she stepped to the side and pulled him with her so as not to get trampled. He was taller than she thought he would be, and not as skinny.

"The gum you gave me yesterday looks like a cheap knock off of a better brand," he said, pulling it out and tapping her forehead with it, "and it tastes like feet."

She flicked his hand away, mouth agog. "You had some? I didn't think you'd actually use it. I found it in my house and didn't know what to do with it."

He cringed and searched for an expiration date. "You mean you don't know how old it is? Who did it belong to?"

Temari shrugged. "Maybe one of my brothers' friends."

Shikamaru looked at her as if she had tried to poison him. "Do you also put Advil in Halloween candy?"  
"Don't be stupid, the gum is perfectly fine." She hoped. It probably belonged to one of Kankurou's friends; the one that didn't like mint and had a fridge full of expired food. "Keep it. That stuff is pretty expensive you know."

He shoved the pack back in his pocket. "Yeah, well I guess you've never tasted it."

"I don't smoke," she said haughtily. "I'm a runner. They don't exactly mix." He grinned and she saw pearly whites. He was actually kind of cute in his own way. "So you quit then; the smoking."

"I also stopped breathing air." She took it back. He was so not cute. He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I'm trying, though."

Shikamaru sounded so honest she punched him lightly in the arm. He scowled and rubbed the spot vigorously. "You're not too bad," Temari said with a smile. "You know, for a Konoha High student." She checked her watch and cringed at the time. Her boss was going to kill her if she was late another day. "Shit, I've got to go. Duty calls. Or work in this case. See you tomorrow."

He groaned. He had to be the oldest young person she'd ever met. "At this rate, it's likely."

She gave him a little salute and rushed off hoping that maybe Matsuri had already clocked in to cover for her.

* * *

"You're here," Tsunade said in surprise. Her eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline.

Shikamaru took a seat. At least the room had a nice view of the sky. "I am."

"So you're attending regularly now?"

He gritted his teeth. "I suppose so." His sessions started a month ago. Yesterday was his first, and he didn't blame Tsunade for being a little short with him. Luckily the Nara family wasn't low on cash, and Tsunade was a valued acquaintance. His father had no qualms with exploiting Tsunade's weakness for gambling, and bribed her with poker chips over dinner. She hadn't dropped Shikamaru yet.

Now Tsunade stared at him curiously from over her black rimmed glasses. "What changed your mind?"

Shikamaru leaned back into the couch. If he was going to be mentally assaulted, he may as well be comfortable. "Not a lot."

"So you came here on a whim." Was that sarcasm in her voice?

He shoved his hands into his pockets and felt around for his lighter. The metal was cool to the touch. "I saw that girl again today."

"The one you met yesterday," she flipped through her notes. "The 'weird' one."

Did she write their whole conversation? Maybe she recorded their meetings too. He stared at the ceramic slug sculpture on the end table beside him and swore he could see lenses in the beady black pupils.

"Yeah, her name's Temari. I bumped into her on the street."

"So Temari is why you're here?"

"No." Well... "Kind of," he conceded. "She gave me some advice." What kind of woman went around telling strangers to get off their asses? He smiled. She sure was a strange one.

Tsunade appeared content with his vague reply. "Do you still play shougi with your father?" Ah, here it was. The roundabout way of asking how his familial relationships were.

"He refuses to. He says I shouldn't be rewarded for the way I've been behaving. As if getting beat over and over is some sort of reward."

"Having something to focus on might be a good thing. Especially something familiar."  
"You tell him that. He's the only one I can play with since..."

"Since Asuma is gone," Tsunade finished for him, her voice pained as well. She had also known Shikamaru's old mentor, though not as a patient but as a friend.

Tsunade wrote something down on her little notepad then tore it out. She held the slip of paper out for him and he took it uncertainly.

"There's a go parlor not too far from here. They also have shougi, so you might be interested. I wrote down the name and address. Why not take a look and see what you think," Tsunade said with a smile.

Shikamaru stared at the little piece of paper. If he could play shougi, a go parlor didn't sound too bad. It would help give him an excuse for not being able to go out, with the added bonus that none of his friends would want to join him. They were concerned for him, he knew, but he hated the secret looks they gave each other when they thought his back was turned. He stuffed the paper into his pocket while Tsunade scribbled on her notepad.

"Now, why don't we talk about Asuma," Tsunade said with a menacing undertone.

He thoroughly regretted skipping all those sessions. When he refused to comply with her first question, she asked him about Chouji and Ino.

"They're fine," he said. She waited for a suitable answer. She wasn't going to let this one go. He let out a deep breath and confessed. "I've been avoiding them."

"Did they do something?"

"No, they're," he paused. The last time the three of them hung out, Chouji gave him the choicest piece of BBQ meat and Ino hugged him goodbye. "They're worried."

Tsunade shifted in her seat. "Shikamaru, you once told me you saw Ino cry." He'd seen Ino cry a bunch of times, and she'd finally perfected the art of sobbing without smearing her makeup. Ino had a lot of emotions. "And that Chouji used to be picked on for his size." Not anymore. Chouji could decapitate a man with his little finger, though he was usually too docile to do it. Tsunade carried on. "You need to let them be there for you the same way you were there for them. Pushing them away won't solve any of your problems. They cared for Asuma too."

He wanted to tell her it wasn't the same. They hadn't been there. They hadn't seen the pools of blood that cascaded across the pavement. They didn't sit shaking beside him, trying desperately to call for help and stop the blood- because there was _so much blood. _They didn't watch Asuma die.

Shikamaru stood outside Tsunade's office building chewing a tile of gum vigorously. God, he wanted a smoke so bad. A cop wandered by and gave him a nod. Not _that_ bad.

He checked his watch. 4:30. He could go home and finish his homework, but that hardly seemed appealing. He pulled out the slip of paper Tsunade gave him earlier. A game of shougi sounded nice about now. He hadn't played in months, but what did it matter against strangers? If he hurried, he could probably make the last game.

After walking for what felt like ages, he finally found the well-hidden parlor. It lay below ground level in a building with chipped plaster and a tiny little sign that spelled the words 'GO' and 'SHOUGI'. The stairs creaked as he made his way down into a narrow, tiled hall. He pulled open the little red door at the end after trying to peek through the window of frosted glass. The room within was fairly well lit, with rows of tables and balding, wrinkled men who leaned over their boards in contemplative thought. Like the rest of the building, it was old; the only indication of the year being the no-smoking sign in bold letters.

A doe eyed girl with brown hair welcomed him in. He was three feet through the doorway when someone cursed loudly. He turned. No way.

Temari stood with two steaming mugs of tea in her hands, wearing an apron rather than her leather jacket. Not even the cuddly pink bear stitched onto the front of the bib could make her look like a polite serving girl. Her patrons jumped back as Temari set the cups down, the tea threatening to spill. She didn't take her eyes off him. "No way," she said, echoing his thoughts. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here," he asked stupidly.

"I work here." She glared. "As if you didn't know that."

"A friend recommended this place to me," he lied quickly. He hadn't even told Chouji or Ino he was seeing a therapist, and he definitely wasn't announcing it to a room of strangers. "How could I know that this is where you work?"

She leaned against the table and put her hand on her hip, practically emitting suspicion. "I dunno, how do most stalkers get their information?"

Everyone was watching them now. One balding man was frozen in place, his fingers still lingering on a little black stone.

"I'm not stalking you." Her face remained impassive. He considered finding another parlor where he wouldn't be accused of being a creep by a wild blonde woman, and could have a nice peaceful game. But laziness won over convenience and he stayed rooted to the spot. "I just wanted to play shougi. That's all." He raised his hands in peace. "I swear."

She strode up to the counter and took off her apron. There was a gleam in her teal eyes that he wasn't sure if he liked or if he feared. "What's your rank?"

"I don't really know. I've only ever played at home."

Temari tapped the counter in dissatisfaction as if to say, _what do you mean you don't know?_ "Write him up, Matsuri," she barked. The girl with the brown hair and baby face almost jumped out of her skin. Temari grinned deviously. "It's too bad you missed the start of the last game. We've already paired everyone off, and there aren't any stragglers." She walked up to Shikamaru slowly and stopped inches from him. Even her eyelashes were a thick sandy blonde. Temari crossed her arms and held her chin high. He was taller than her, but she managed to make herself intimidating. "So how about you play me? Unless you can't stand the thought of losing..."

He wrapped his fingers around the familiar metal of the lighter in his pocket. He couldn't play with Asuma anymore, but that didn't mean he couldn't still play. Temari was urging him on, taunting him; what kind of man backed down from a challenge like that?

"Alright," he agreed with a smirk. He had pegged Temari as the smart type, and he was intrigued to see what kind of game she played.

He paid the fee and she led them to an empty table at the side of the room and set up the board. A man at the table next to them with thick lenses and blotchy age spots nudged Shikamaru on the shoulder. "Good luck, kid," he rasped. "Temari's ruthless. She's made a lot of us old-timers look bad. Lesser men have even cried."

Temari's grin widened as she straightened her four ponytails. "Don't worry. I'm letting him have black." Shikamaru didn't argue. If she was strong, he'd find out. He stared at the pieces. The foreign feeling of excitement welled up at the ends of his finger tips.

"Are you ready," Temari asked when she finished setting up the board. He felt her legs shift against his under the cramped table. _Don't get distracted._

Shikamaru nodded and made the first move. His heart raced as he considered strategy after strategy. There was nothing but him, the board, and Temari. His eyes met hers and he knew they were immersed in the same world, both trying to read the other. "Your turn."


	3. The Third Session

It was 6:30, and everyone was clearing out. Matsuri stopped collecting cups to tap Temari on the shoulder. "It's time to close up," she said gently.

"One second," Temari snapped.

Shikamaru stirred in front of her. "Is it that late already?" Matsuri nodded and he stood up.

"Where do you think you're going," Temari asked accusingly, rising as well. "We're not done yet."

"I resign," he said. He pushed his chair in and shrugged. "I've got some homework I need to finish."

"I want a rematch."

"Troublesome." Shikamaru yawned. "When?"  
"Tomorrow," Temari said hotly. "Come after closing. We're playing as long as it takes to get a winner."

He muttered, "Okay," and waved as he left.

"And make sure you finish all your homework," Temari yelled before the door closed behind him. There was no way she was letting him leave midway through a game twice. She stared at the board in frustration.

Matsuri lifted another cup onto her tray. "But why bother with a rematch? Shikamaru resigned. You won."

Temari sure felt it would go that way. At the beginning of the game she was in control, taking pieces and gaining wider access to the board. For a time she had him reacting to her moves, until he closed his eyes and put his fingers together. She didn't know what to make of his sudden zen-like state, so she waited. Five minutes later he made his move and the game changed. The more turns that went by, the more she felt like she was being caged in, and the more it looked like her king was in trouble. She started questioning her decisions as her set up turned against her. Was she just playing into the grand scheme of his plan? Was he one step ahead of _every _move she made? If the game had lasted any longer...

Temari cleared the pieces off the board. "Shikamaru resigned, but I didn't win." She grabbed a towel and a spray bottle to wipe down the tables. She knew she had been rusty to begin with. She played shougi once in a while, but only when the regulars asked her to, and they never brought much of a challenge. But Shikamaru was better; a lot better. By her last move she knew check-mate would only be a matter of time. Temari let out a growl of anger as she abused the tables with her towel and practically wiped off a layer of wood. And then that lazy piece of work had _resigned_. It made her blood boil. The fact that someone could come here and beat her without even knowing their rank was, well... interesting. She helped Matsuri close up, looking very forward to her rematch.

By the time she got home she was exhausted. She entered the apartment she shared with her brothers and slouched onto the couch. Washing the stones took forever. Even with Matsuri's help they only cleaned half of them. Half of the white ones. "Your meal is in the fridge," Kankurou said from the dining table, his homework spilled across the surface. Thank goodness. Temari could cook a decent meal, but Kankurou was the real chef. He had a passion for food, but it was nothing in comparison to his love for puppets. Temari kind of wished he'd ditch the puppets. It was great that they won him art competitions, but she hated walking into his dimly lit room to find out she'd spent half an hour talking at a life-sized doll. Not to mention the scare she got when she thought someone had broken into their apartment in the middle of the night. Her brothers woke to her screams, and turned on the lights. Kankurou called her a murderer when he saw she had decapitated one of his puppets, and cradled it lovingly back into his room. He was so weird.

"Miso soup and rice balls," Temari said in disappointment as she pulled out her feeble meal. "_This_ is for me?"

Kankurou flipped a page in his textbook. "We finished the oyakodon. Gaara's at that I-eat-six-meals-a-day stage. I'll make more food tomorrow."

Too tired to make something fresh, she accepted the snack and cleared a space at the table by shoving Kankurou's papers to the side while he protested. "Where is Gaara," she asked through a mouthful of rice.

"Sulking in his room." Kankurou raised a brow. "You do remember yelling at him yesterday, don't you?"

"I wasn't yelling. I was talking. I _talked._"

"Okay, so you remember _talking_ at him. Either way, he's locked up in his room."

"You know what happened, don't you? With that boy and his mother. Tell me."

Kankurou went right back to his homework. "Leave it alone. He already dealt with it."

"Not fair. Why does he tell _you_ everything? That's blatant favouritism."

"If anyone, _you're_ his favourite. He just doesn't want to disappoint you."

"Really? He likes _me_ best," Temari asked, putting her food aside. If that was true, Gaara didn't really show it. He spent more of his time with his cactuses than he did with Temari.

Kankurou grimaced. "I guess," he said.

"Oh my God. You're _jealous_. _You_ want to be Gaara's favourite. That's _adorable._" She sniffed theatrically. "My baby brother just wants to be loved."

Kankurou looked like he was going to kill her. "No I don't! Shut up! Stop talking!"

She got up and wrapped her arms around his head, muffling his screams. "Don't worry Kankurou," she cooed. "You'll always be somewhere in my top ten."

"You're disgusting."

"Shhh, let me hold you."

"I fucking hate you right now."

"You precious middle child..."

Gaara walked in and abruptly turned around. She ran up to him and gave him a hug before he could escape. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," she whispered. She couldn't be their mother, and she definitely couldn't be their father, but if there was one thing she could do for her brothers, it was go a little easier on them.

Gaara's arms hovered, unsure of whether to return the gesture or just stand there. "Why is she touching me?"

Kankurou frowned. "I don't know; this is weird for me too. Most of her physical contact is violent."

It was light, and just for a second, but Temari swore she felt Gaara hug her back. Temari smiled to herself. _Baby steps, _she thought. Maybe they would be all right. "Okay, that's enough, get off me," she said, releasing him. "Want some crappy rice balls?"

"They're fine," Kankurou roared. The three of them sat at the table. Temari teased Kankurou while he tried to get back to his work. Gaara sat silently, but the corners of his mouth twitched once or twice. They had their bad days. It was hard not to when your childhood was one screwed up horror story you tried to forget. But right now was good, and Temari hoped they would have more moments like this. More moments that were just _good. _

"I'm staying late tomorrow," Temari said, remembering her rematch.

"Don't you always try to get out of work early," Kankurou asked.

"Yeah, but this time I've got a shougi match of my own after hours," she got up to brew some tea. "Wish me luck."

"Should we be worried? I mean, if some middle aged man asked me to 'play shougi' with him after work, I think I'd be calling the police."

"He's not a creepy old pervert, and _I_ was the one who asked that the game be after hours," Temari corrected.

Even Gaara had his brows furrowed now. Kankurou rolled his eyes. "Great, now he's young and totally capable of overpowering you. I thought you were street smart."

"He's a high school kid," Temari snapped, pouring hot water into a large teapot. She was fairly confident in her ability to defend herself. All those martial arts classes weren't for nothing. "Nara Shikamaru. He's a first year at Konoha High."

Kankurou screwed up his nose. "So what, you guys are having a nerd-date?"

Temari kicked him under the table. "It's not a nerd-date."

"Right, nerds would just call it a date."

"I've heard of him," Gaara said, interrupting Kankurou's taunts of _cradle-robber, cradle-robber.._. "He got the highest entrance exam score in his school."

Temari grabbed three cups and took a seat. "How do you know this?"

"He's kind of famous in the shougi club." Gaara was a scarily well rounded kid. He excelled in almost every area, and was asked by multiple clubs to fill in empty spots for competitions. He didn't really understand the concept of team work, but he scored points and that was all anyone cared about. In a matter of months, he became 'Suna's Ultimate Weapon'. His shougi was a little shoddy, but the club needed the members. "He was supposed to give a speech at the entrance ceremony, but he never showed up. They say he spent the morning cloud watching, and forgot all about it."

Kankurou poured the tea and took a sip. "So is he smart or is he stupid?"

"Apparently he has a Mensa certificate."

Temari almost choked. "_What_?"

"That's what they say. He's part of the Konoha shougi club, but it seems that he never attends. At this rate, we're not sure if he'll be in the up-coming tournament, or not."

She knew from their last game that Shikamaru was smart, but _the top two percentile?_ His lazy expression hovered in the forefront of her mind. God, it was annoying. His own genius was wasted on him. If she were that smart, she'd be out ruling the world, or solving the nation's power crisis, or trying to count cards at poker. Not that she wasn't already attempting these things, but a brain boost would really help quicken the process.

Kankurou let out an, "ugh." He hated people younger than him, Gaara being the exception, and he _really_ hated people that were younger _and_ smarter than him. He put a hand on Temari's shoulder. "Just don't bring him home."

* * *

The classroom was loud as per usual. Naruto was telling an animated story about his latest adventures with his perverted godfather to Kiba who snorted with unbridled laughter. Sasuke sat beside them, looking brooding and annoyed. Annoyed at Naruto's theatrics or at the fact that Naruto wasn't talking to _him_, Shikamaru couldn't say. It didn't matter; Sakura came in and threatened to punch Naruto into a coma which he wisely took as a notion to shut up.

"Good morning," Ino said carefully. Chouji trailed silently behind her. Shikamaru nodded and she took her seat in front of him while Chouji sat to his right. _ Pushing them away won't solve any of your problems_. Guilt settled at the pit of Shikamaru's stomach. Chouji gave him the space he desired, but Ino was a bit more persistent. _They didn't do anything wrong_. But he was treating them like they had. _Just tell them you're sorry. Tell them you want to go back to the way it was_.

The door opened and the noises in the class turned into a hum. The teacher walked in wearing a face mask for the perpetual cold he was rumored to have and started the lesson. Shikamaru snuck a glance at Chouji, who had opened a pack of chips under his desk. _I'll tell them later_, he thought, turning back to stare out the window. _It's too troublesome right now._

"Shikamaru," Naruto called at the end of class. The boy was a yellow ball of energy that Shikamaru didn't have the power to deal with. "Are you coming to watch the exhibition game today? It's Konoha versus Suna in a battle of basketball. Sounds cool, right?" Shikamaru leaned back as Naruto edged closer, blue eyes shining with hope. Naruto was one of the few first years to have made the team, along with Sasuke and Kiba. He was so proud, it was all he would talk about for months.

"Sorry," Shikamaru said, ducking out of Naruto's invasive proximity. Sasuke finally quit glaring. "I've got an appointment today. Maybe next time." If Tsunade didn't let up on his afterschool 'appointments' he was probably never going to attend a match anyways.

Naruto narrowed his eyes in suspicion, "You've been pretty quick to leave school for a while now." His whole face changed, and he was suddenly grinning as if he'd stumbled on buried treasure. "Do you have a _girlfriend_?"

Shikamaru frowned. Of all the bloody things... "Not even close."

It didn't matter what he said. Naruto loved little tidbits of romantic information, and became Ino's gossip side-kick whenever there was a juicy story traversing the school's social network. Shikamaru believed they _were_ the school's social network. They probably handed out flyers and made up their own rumors.

"I bet Ino knows," Naruto said, backing away slowly. He left the classroom screaming, "INO," at the top of his lungs. Sasuke followed in an attempt to remind him they had a match in an hour and to stop yelling in the hallways like an idiot.

He spotted Temari scrambling down the same street he saw her at yesterday and the day before. She sped along somewhere between a walk and a jog. If she was late for work last time, she was probably late today. "Game tonight, don't forget," she shouted when she ran past him. "No standing me up!" He smirked and wondered how it was that he enjoyed such a pushy woman.

Shikamaru arrived at Tsunade's office in a rather good mood.

"I went to the parlor you recommended," Shikamaru said. The session was almost over, and he could tell Tsunade was running out of patience with his refusal to talk about anything. "Temari works there. It's a crazy coincidence, isn't it?"

"Crazy," Tsunade agreed. "Almost as if a god-like, omnipotent being is controlling your fate."

"I don't know if I believe that, but sure."

"So tell me," Tsunade said, switching gears. "Did you make up with Ino and Chouji?"

He shook his head in frustration. Not this again. "Look, it's more difficult than you think."

"It's not. You're making it difficult."

"I can't just up and tell them I want to go back to the way it was."

"Shikamaru," Tsunade said patiently. "I don't say this often, but you are very lucky with the friends you have. Most people aren't willing to wait for someone to work out their problems. Ino and Chouji have. There's nothing to go back to; you're already there."

He digested that slowly and still felt she didn't understand.

Shikamaru showed up to the go parlor early, following the same steep stairs down to the basement, and crossing the hallway to the little door at the end. Matsuri greeted him at the front, and he paid for a match up. He scanned the tiny room quickly in search of Temari's sandy blonde head, but couldn't find her anywhere.

"She's at the back," Matsuri giggled, pointing to a sliding door on the opposite wall.

"Who," he asked, peeved at his own transparency.

"Boss told her to finish cleaning the stones," she continued, not buying into his charade. "She won't be out until closing." He didn't bother arguing and took a seat at a board. Matsuri was right at any rate, but he tried not to make eye contact with her. She wore the same expression Naruto had only hours ago, and that made him think of all the annoying people he'd have to tell he didn't have a girlfriend. Just thinking about all that work made him want to skip class. Maybe it would be easier to go along with it and pretend he _did_ have a girlfriend. Then again, encouraging Naruto never bred good results.

Shikamaru continued to mull over it until closing. His game would have gone a lot faster had his opponent not taken ten minutes each turn to make a move. Matsuri warned everyone of the time just as Shikamaru took the king and ended the match. They thanked each other for the game, and within minutes the room was empty. As if on cue, the sliding door opened and Temari emerged sporting the same silly bear apron she wore the day before. She carried in two large buckets and placed them against the wall. "I hate my job," she said, taking a seat opposite him. "I spent my whole shift at the sinks. I think I've lost any interest I had in go."

"At least the uniform isn't too bad."

She looked down and stared at the cuddly pink bear. "Don't you tell a soul," she threatened menacingly, jabbing a finger in his face. "Not a soul." She took it off and threw it on the floor in loathing.

They played two games. Temari had quite an analytical mind, and an aggressive style that stemmed from her personality. She had him cornered a few times, but when he put his hands together and thought, the solution would hit him like lightening. "Rematch," she said, grinding her teeth together after her loss. Shikamaru was all too pleased to accept. She was better than Asuma; a lot better than Asuma. Playing against her made his breath catch and his mind spin. She was unpredictable in more ways than one, and he didn't doubt the possibility that she could beat him if he didn't pay close enough attention.

"You should go pro," Temari said when he declared check and there was no way out. She studied the board. It had been close. So close, Shikamaru wasn't certain that his strategy would work.

"I'm not good enough to go pro."  
"Not now," she said stubbornly. "But if you practice, you could."

"Troublesome." He liked shougi well enough, but he liked cloud watching more. Not even his two hundred plus IQ could come up with a job that required doing nothing as a skill. He leaned back in his chair. "Why don't _you_ go pro?"

"Shougi isn't really a full time deal for me. Plus, I'm not the one who won three games in a row."

"Two. You won our first game."

"You _resigned_ our first game. You would've won if you had just stuck around a little bit longer." He smirked. She was less angry that she lost twice, and more angry that he resigned once. What a strange woman. Temari cleared the pieces, put the board away and came back with two towels in hand. Somehow she managed to convince him he either had to help her clean up, or pay for their two games, despite the fact that _she _had challenged _him _to a rematch. She handed him a towel along with a spray bottle and they got to work. It wasn't too bad. Temari was easy to talk to. She told him about her childhood dream of becoming the first female Prime Minister, and how she used have the kids in her neighbourhood sign home-made ballots dated twenty years into the future. "I wanted to make sure I had a good foundation," she said seriously. Shikamaru wondered how she hadn't already accomplished ruling the world. He hadn't been as goal-oriented as a child, he told her. He used to spend most of his time skipping class or watching the sky from the roof of any building he could get to. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't changed a whole lot.

Temari appeared unimpressed. "Just when I thought you couldn't get any less motivated."

Shikamaru sprayed her with soapy water. For a second he thought she might punch him out. Instead she sprayed him back, dodging his return fire. She moved like a ferret, darting in and out of range. He grabbed her around the middle when she tried to get him in the face, and lost his footing on the soapy floor.

"Idiot," Temari gasped, leaning over him as he lay on his back. "Don't drag me down with you." She was warm, pressed against his body, her slim legs tangled in his. He realized, in embarrassment, that he hadn't let go of her waist, and subsequently unwrapped his arms. Temari got up, unfazed. "You were supposed to help clean, not make a mess. I'll grab a mop." He watched her disappear into the back room and took a seat. Blood pumped loudly in his ears, and hoped he wasn't as red-faced as he thought. Shikamaru's phone vibrated in his pocket. Odd. Usually no one texted him. He never bothered to answer.

_17 new messages. _What the-

_Uzumaki Naruto, 18:45  
__GUESS WHO KICKED SOME SUNA ASS.__  
_

_Uzumaki Naruto, 18:45  
__THIS GUY.__  
_

_Uzumaki Naruto, 18:46  
__A bunch of us are going out for dinner with some of the guys from the Suna team. Is your appointment over? You should come too.__  
_

_Uzumaki Naruto, 19:01  
__We're at that yakiniku place you, Ino, and Chouji go to all the time. Get over here.__  
_

_Uzumaki Naruto, 19:37  
__CHOUJI JUST SWALLOWED ALL THE MEAT, WHAT DO I DO?__  
_

_Uzumaki Naruto, 20:14  
__You're a useless asshole, you know that? We're heading down to Karaoke-kan. You know the one. Be there or BE LAME.__  
_

_Uzumaki Naruto, 20:44  
__We know you're not doing homework, and everyone wants to hear you sing like sweet baby angels.__  
_

_Uzumaki Naruto, 20:45  
__Okay, so Sasuke doesn't want to hear you sing like sweet baby angels, but I'm sure Ino and Chouji do. We're staying ALL NIGHT LONG so come now.__  
_

_Rock Lee, 20:45  
__ALL THIS TEXTING IS SO YOUTHFUL.__  
_

_Rock Lee, 20:45  
__Shikamaru, you must come join our youthful display represented in song.__  
_

_Uzumaki Naruto, 20:46  
__I'm going to get everyone to text you until you get your ass over here. Beware my power.__  
_

_Haruno Sakura, 20:49  
__Don't listen to Naruto. I want to leave. Send help.__  
_

_Uzumaki Naruto, 20:50  
__Don't listen to Sakura. She wants to go study. Tell her she's lame.__  
_

_Inuzuka Kiba, 20:55  
__Shino just sang an old Arashi song with choreographed dance  
__and I don't think Neji knows it, but I've lined up Hyuna's Bubble Pop for his turn  
__I can't decide if he'll actually try singing in Korean, or suffocate us in his hair.__  
_

_Hyuuga Neji, 21:24  
__Sorry for all the spam. Confiscating phones. Especially Naruto's.__  
_

He imagined Neji singing to an upbeat pop song and snorted loudly. His friends were stupid. So, so stupid.

Temari came back with her mop. "What's up," she asked with a raised eyebrow. He clutched his sides and gasped for breath.

"My friends," he said. "They're idiots. They're having a karaoke party and want me there now."

Temari wiped the floor quickly and leaned on the handle. "They sound pretty cool to me. You should go. Trust me, when you get to university, you don't have a lot of time for mid-week parties."

He stared at the messages. None from Ino. None from Chouji. Why should he expect any? He was the one ignoring them. "I can't. Have you ever accidentally alienated your friends?" The truth that he couldn't tell Tsunade was on the verge of spilling out to a girl who he hardly knew. A part of him didn't care. It was easier to talk to someone he didn't know.

Temari let the broom drop and took a seat opposite him. She crossed her legs and propped her black boots on the back of another chair. "Once. Except I think it was everyone, not just my friends. And when I was done being a little shit, it was really hard to _tell them_ that I was done being a little shit... and that I was sorry."

"But you did? And they forgave you?"

"Yeah." She laughed. "But it took some time. Turns out they were waiting for me to get that stick out of my ass. It was worth putting aside my pride in the end, though. It's scary, being alone." She stared at her boots and frowned. "I mean, to be _really _alone. The kind where even you don't want to be around yourself." The idea that Chouji and Ino would one day not be there never occurred to him. But it was true. When would they finally get sick of his attitude and decide to drop him all together? Grief had turned into self loathing. Maybe Tsunade had a point. He needed to make things right.

Temari jumped up, abruptly aware she had wandered into personal territory. "Wow, I didn't mean to make things depressing-"

"No," Shikamaru said, getting up slowly. "No, I get, I really do. Thanks... That helped a lot, actually."

She stared at him curiously. "Are you sure? Because I literally just vented at you."

"Yeah," he nodded. Maybe he ought to be paying Temari rather than Tsunade. "I think I might go to this thing after all. Do you need any more help? I can, if you want-"

She punched him in the arm. "Go to your party, loser. I need to get paid for doing something, I guess."

He grabbed his jacket and checked his watch. He could make it in twenty minutes if he ran for the bus. "Hey, Shikamaru," Temari called. He turned. She had cheekier grins than Naruto and Kiba combined. "I'll win our next match, so watch yourself."

"Are you threatening the guy who knows you work in a cuddly bear apron?"

She blushed scarlet, and he ran for the door before she could drench him in more water. The apron may not suit her, but Shikamaru found himself thinking that Temari might be kind of cute in her own ferocious, arm-bruising, smirk-inducing way.

**A/N: That got a lot longer than I thought it would, and I'm kind of scared it dragged. Let me know! Review! Please!**

**I know don't know anything about anything. If my descriptions regarding shougi sound really vague, it's because I can't play. **

**I suck at chess, and even then, it's not the same thing... **

**Also, I don't listen to Jpop or Kpop, I just threw out what some of my friends like. If that's not popular, well fuck. **


	4. The Fourth Session

Shikamaru got to Karaoke-kan a little after ten. He stopped outside to write a mental speech but after several minutes of reliving the past couple hours with Temari, he realized it was hopeless. She was like an addiction; one they didn't sell gum for. Without a doubt he'd be back at that hole-in-the-wall go parlor tomorrow in the hopes of playing a game with her and making her smile.

He stared at the neon lights and glass doors. The woman at the front desk regarded him shadily as he loitered. Screw the speech, he'd wing it.

Naruto welcomed him in to the brightly coloured room and pulled him into a duet before he could refuse. Shikamaru wasn't really a karaoke guy, and couldn't hit a note to save his life. He lip synced what he could, and scanned the room in the mean time. Ino sat at the back bench fighting Kiba for control over the song listings while Chouji munched furiously on chips beside her, each of them oblivious to his entry. There were a few people he didn't know, and he assumed they were part of the Suna basketball team. When the song was over, Naruto grabbed a meek boy with flaming red hair as Shikamaru's replacement. The boy looked about as enthusiastic as Sasuke, and barely moved his mouth as the lyrics went by. Shikamaru weaved between Sakura and Sasuke who were both determined to study off their phones as Tenten tried to stop Lee from breaking anymore microphones in his youthful iron grip.

"Hey," Shikamaru shouted over the music. Ino's mouth dropped open and Chouji's eyes went wide. Shikamaru squished himself in the seat between Chouji and the wall. Chouji was a massive guy, and about one and a half times wider than most their age. Sitting next to Chouji made Ino look even tinier by comparison, and she was always trying out the newest diet fad. Kiba grabbed the remote while Ino was distracted and took off to coerce Hinata into a song.

"Hey," Ino said quietly. He could barely hear her over the sound of Naruto rapping into the mic. He was actually pretty good.

Shikamaru scratched the back of his head, searching for what to say. He sucked at these kinds of things. His mouth refused to move. What had Temari said? "I've been acting like a little shit," he said hastily. Get it over with... "And that wasn't fair to either of you."

They didn't say a word, and at first Shikamaru thought they hadn't heard him. He tried to think of how else to convince them to take him back beyond getting on his knees and begging, but Chouji clapped him on the shoulder and smiled, completely content. They never had to say much to understand each other. "It's okay." Shikamaru felt he didn't deserve them, but Chouji's words put him at ease.

"What the hell does that mean," Ino asked angrily, looking back and forth between the two. "Are you talking to us again?"

Shikamaru winced. Right in the guilt. Chouji patted her on the back, but she brushed him off and stood up. "You can let him off as easy as you like," she said to Chouji, her voice rising. She pointed to Shikamaru, her hands shaking, "But don't you dare think I'm done with you." He had never seen Ino so mad. She hurled insult after insult, calling him 'irritable', 'annoying', and a 'moody-twat-face'. He would have laughed if he didn't feel so deserving of her wrath. She really ought to take cursing lessons with Temari. Ino was as bad at confrontations as Shikamaru was at apologies. One minute into her rant, and her eyes welled up with tears. "We missed you so much, you big loser," she cried, taking her seat again and collapsing into uncontrollable sobs. Shikamaru sat stunned, not knowing what to do. It was easier to console someone when you weren't the reason for the water works. The song ended, and Ino's weeping was extraordinarily audible in the little booth.

"Woah. Ino, are you _crying_?" Naruto's voice boomed across the room. Even Sakura and Sasuke looked up from their phones. Shikamaru tried not to groan. _Oh shit._

Everyone crowded around them.

Tenten put a comforting arm around Ino while Sakura stood with her arms crossed. "What happened?"

Ino choked out some words with little clarity, though, "_Shikamaru_," was easily discernible.

Tenten stared at Shikamaru wearily, flexing her fingers. Tenten didn't look like much of a threat, but she was in almost every martial arts club their school had to offer, and was well trained in kendo and archery. Sakura wasn't trained in anything, but he had seen her toss Naruto enough times to know she was no push-over. Shikamaru stared at the door longingly. What he would give to live just a little bit longer...

Luckily Neji stepped in and mediated, giving Ino enough time to calm down and explain that it was just a misunderstanding.

"I'm sorry, Ino," Shikamaru said awkwardly as they left Karaoke-kan. Ino decided to call it a night, mortified that she had cried in front of all of her friends and a bunch of kids from Suna. Chouji and Shikamaru followed suit, since the three of them lived in the same neighbourhood. Sakura and Sasuke took their leaving as a chance to escape, and Tenten decided she no longer wanted to be responsible for the destruction Lee was causing. Hinata politely excused herself, explaining she was tired and had to get up early, and Neji promptly declared he would take her home. The room cleared out after that, and Naruto vowed he'd make them all stay longer next time.

Ino walked beside him, a pout on her face. She could pretend to be mad all she liked, but Shikamaru could tell she was pleased. She had a weak spot when it came to him and Chouji. The three of them had been friends since childhood, and that was hard to forget. "It's fine," she sniffed, "Apologize to Chouji, too."

"He doesn't have to," Chouji said. "I already know he's sorry."

Ino elbowed Chouji in the side. "You're too nice to him, you big softie." They took a seat at a dimly lit bus stop and waited. "So I guess we're team ten again," Ino said softly, referring to their primary school sports day. They had been placed in the same group, and though Chouji wasn't the most fit, or Shikamaru the most enthusiastic, or Ino the most compliant, their teamwork won them first place in multiple events. The three stuck together ever since.

"Ino-Shika-Chou," Chouji agreed. They searched for stars in the hazy summer night; an almost impossible task with the glaring lights and vibrant screens. They would have better luck in their own neighbourhood, away from the city, where the street lamps were every kilometer.

"There's something we've been meaning to tell you," Ino said slowly. "Promise you won't freak out."

Shikamaru righted himself, his neck aching terribly. Ino and Chouji both looked grim. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. He nodded, "Alright."

"You remember Sasuke's brother, Itachi, right? The one who used to have ties with Akatsuki." Itachi was an aged-up version of Sasuke (of whom he held no fondness). They had the same dark hair and brooding eyes that caused girls to send them little love notes and start secret fan clubs and covet anything the object of their affection may have touched. Shikamaru was pretty sure he saw one of Sasuke's used erasers on the front page of ebay for 10000 yen.

Itachi was his family's pride, the Uchiha gem, the once-in-a-generation genius who would go to Todai, get into graduate school, and make a living everyone could be jealous of. The moment he cracked, the rumours started to spread. Some said he shot up in darkened alleyways and made drug deals with hookers and stole purses off of elderly women. Shikamaru doubted any of that was true. The only fact everyone seemed to know for sure was that Itachi had gotten mixed up in the wrong crowd; namely that of Akatsuki, a well known gang of unruly yakuza.

"He's part of the police force now," Ino continued. It was a miracle Itachi got out without being convicted of any felonies. Now he was supposed to protect the public? The world was a crazy place. "And he got wind of Hidan." Shikamaru froze. He could hear the screeching tires and the sound of Asuma's heart pumping slower and slower with each passing second.

"He's here," Chouji said heavily when Ino couldn't finish. Solemnity didn't suit him. "Asuma's killer is back in Tokyo."

* * *

Temari got home late as expected, whistling the tune of the last song that played through her headphones. Kankurou was still waiting up for her when she opened the door, though he claimed he had been working on his puppets and wasn't worried in the least.

"Ew, stop being so happy," Kankurou said inching away from her in his chair as she whistled away. He constantly told her to quit her job because she came home and behaved like a giant black hole that sucked all joy out of the room. It made him depressed to look at her. Now, here he was, complaining about her good mood. Nothing pleased Kankurou, and everything made him disgruntled.

She set her cup down and leaned against the counter. "What makes you say that? Do I look happy?"

"Yeah, practically giddy," Kankurou said. A large wooden body lay across the kitchen table amongst several pots of paint. He held his brush to the face, delicately applying stroke after stroke. "Gaara says he'll be late tonight. Apparently he went out with some kids from Konoha." He shook his head in disbelief. "Since when does Gaara go out?"

When their father was alive, Gaara used to leave the house more often than Kankurou knew. Temari was a light sleeper, and at night she could hear him creep through the hallways. She never knew what time he returned at, or what he did, but she was certain he never slept and that no one but she knew of his escapades. Going out with friends, however, was an entirely different story. Gaara remained rather withdrawn in the sense that he didn't form friendships, just polite acquaintances.

"He had a session with Tsunade yesterday," Kankurou said. "Maybe that's where this came from."

"It's possible," Temari agreed, though she doubted that was the case. Tsunade was a psychologist not a miracle worker, and if Temari was damaged then Gaara was broken. She dumped her things onto the couch and headed for the bathroom.

Temari prepared the tub and stepped into tepid water, letting it cool her skin. She liked the heat. She flourished in the heat. The one thing she did not appreciate was the humidity. Summer was coming to an end, and while she'd miss the warmth of the sun, she couldn't wait to have some form of control over her thick, bristly hair. She raised her feet out of the water to stare at the light tan line that met the tops of her boots mid-calf.

She whistled the little tune again. _Giddy_. Was she giddy? She grinned. Her cheeks were starting to hurt, but she couldn't stop smiling that stupid dopey smile, the same way she couldn't stop thinking about how Shikamaru had wrapped his arms around her and hadn't let go until they were tangled and drenched across the floor.

_Stop it_, she told herself. She told herself the same thing when she saw the way he looked at her as he let her go. Men looked at her chest, her hips, her legs, her face, but Shikamaru looked at all of her, and that made her feel seen in a way that wasn't just physical. Her wild, impulsive side said to kiss him. He wasn't the kid she mocked him to be. His shoulders were wider than hers, his legs longer, arms stronger; and he made her heart beat just a fraction faster than the norm. Then her senses kicked in and punched her wild side in the face. _Don't encourage him if you're not serious_. But encouraging him was _fun. _He kept up with her wit and her banter, rendering awkward silences impossible. It was almost like a battle; a battle against boredom and a fight for excitement, for that shiver, for that breathlessness. _Poor Shikamaru_, she thought. He could win at shougi as much as he liked, but this game was hers, and no strategy in the world would save him.

The heat was back, and not in a good way. Temari had to forgo her leather jacket and combat boots for an airy sheer top and lightly heeled wedges. They didn't do much good. Beads of sweat formed along her back and thighs making her feel clammy and damp. To make matters worse, her hair was adamant on redefining volume, and exploded out of her head in an attempt to be seen from space. She gave up on it and rushed out the door. It was too time consuming to care.

Temari stepped into Tsunade's office and was pleased to find it nice and cool. "Morning," she tried to say, but got caught up in a yawn.

Tsunade put on her glasses and crossed her legs. "Long night?"

"Yeah." She yawned again. "I was up until midnight waiting for Gaara to come home."

Gaara tiptoed through the front door just as the clock hit twelve. Both Kankurou and Temari scrutinized him thoroughly, half expecting him to be extremely wasted or covered in piercings. Instead he was sober, unmarred, and, even stranger, pleasant. They had seen Gaara express a variety of emotions, none of which ever even came close to showing up on the geniality-meter. His state of constant neutrality was as close to amiable as he got, so it was no surprise to Temari when Kankurou nearly flipped the table as Gaara smiled in the midst of telling a brief story.

"Konoha High has some interesting people," Gaara mused as he unpacked his bag. Temari gaped while Kankurou sat with his brush in hand, the paint dripping into his lap. "I wouldn't mind seeing them again." He escaped into the bathroom while Temari tried to form a sentence. Kankurou put away his paint, noticing there was more on his pants than his puppet.

"What did you talk to Gaara about during his session?" Temari asked curiously.

Tsunade pursed her lips. "I can't discuss Gaara's sessions with you, the same way I can't discuss your sessions with him." She chuckled at Temari's poorly concealed indignation. "You don't have to worry. Gaara has some problems to work out, but he's a very kind boy. Why don't we talk about you today?"

"There's not much to talk about," Temari said carefully. She could tell Tsunade about Shikamaru, but she had the feeling she'd just be reprimanded for messing around, or end up being forced to acknowledge her relationship issues.

"Let's start with yesterday, then."

"I saw you, I worked, I went home. You see? No fights. No trouble. It's all good." She thought about how far back this stupid little suspension was putting her. She'd have to go back and find out if she could catch up on the courses she was missing, and if she couldn't... well, she didn't like thinking about that. She had plans set out for herself, rigid plans; plans that didn't accommodate delay.

"You have more demons than you're willing to admit," Tsunade said. "There are a lot of things we haven't properly discussed yet." Temari let out a _tsk. _Tsunade ignored her and scratched at her notepad. "I won't pressure you into opening up and facing your problems; we'll do that at whatever pace you like. If I see improvement, I'll report it to Baki."

_And if you don't, you'll report it to the university. _

The message was clear. She crossed her legs and folded her arms, a mocking mirror image of Tsunade's form. "Alright," she said with an air of confidence she wasn't sure she had. She had to start strong if she was going to start at all. "Why don't we go from the beginning, then?"

Tsunade nodded.

Temari didn't remember much before Gaara was born. She had images of her mother kissing her good night, and her father fondly mussing up her hair. She dismissed them as hopeful dreams.

Her mother passed away during Gaara's birth, and her father never let it go. He wouldn't touch the premature infant, wouldn't hold it in his arms. He left all three children with their uncle, Yashamaru. To Temari, Yashamaru looked like mother. To Kankurou, he looked like Temari. They lived in Tottori back then, in a little house by the water with a burnt orange roof, where the paint peeled and the door didn't shut properly. She used to have competitions with the neighbourhood kids. Who could run the fastest? Who could leap the farthest? Who could sneak into old-man Ebizou's yard and catch a fish unnoticed? She was the kid that didn't back down from a dare, the one missing two teeth and had scrapes that told stories of adventures gone wrong. Kankurou copied everything she did, even if it meant scaling a fence four times his height, or taking a bite out of a wriggly earthworm. When she thought about it, their time with Yashamaru was the calm before the storm. They used to go to the dunes on the weekends. Gaara was too small to tag along with Temari and Kankurou's after-school romps. The older kids teased him for being too slow, and for the stuffed bear he carried in his arms. Yashamaru gave it to him for his birthday and he never put it down. Every afternoon they left him standing at the gate with his brows furrowed together, trying not to cry. Their trip to the dunes was the only time the elder two included him in their games. Even back then he was quiet and shy. More often than once, they lost him amongst the sand, but he'd pop back up a couple minutes later covered in a thin layer of earth with his pale eyes as round as saucers.

They played for hours, letting the wind tousle their hair and the sun kiss their cheeks. Getting home was a sleepy affair, with Gaara draped across Yashamaru's shoulder as Temari and Kankurou stumbled about in a daze. Gaara loved the dunes, and insisted they go back every weekend. She told him that was too much; she was tired of it, and wanted to stay home. She didn't understand him back then, or she didn't care, but she did now and it made her sad.

Their father visited a few times a year. He seemed to grow grimmer with each visit and more foul tempered. Sometimes he drank, and when he drank, he cussed. He yelled at anyone who would try to calm him down, but mostly he yelled at Gaara. In truth, he scared her. She cowered beneath her covers, burrowing into the blankets where she could drown out the sound of breaking glass and raised voices. In the mornings he was sorry. He gave them gifts to make up for the hurt and the tears, and left promising he'd be better.

Temari worked hard at school. He didn't yell when she had a good report card. She studied hoping that the next time he visited he would smile at her grades and tell her she was clever while mussing her hair. Then maybe he wouldn't be so mad at Gaara, too. Kankurou told her she was being stupid for thinking father's words meant anything. Temari kicked him for that. Kankurou didn't know anything; he was the stupid one. He was a year younger and still thought eating a watermelon seed would bear fruit in his stomach. He was wrong. Father was going to come back and _prove_ him wrong. Kankurou told her she could dream all she liked; at least father didn't hate _her_.

Her delusions came to an end the year she was to turn eight. Yashamaru was so proud that he made all her favourite meals. She was top student of the year and was awarded a beautiful certificate embossed with gold characters and a shiny medallion. She kept it in her folder and made sure it didn't wrinkle or bend on her walk home. It had to be perfect. She couldn't wait to show her father. This time he was sure to smile and pick her up, and do all the things fathers were supposed to do with their little girls. He arrived right as Yashamaru tucked them into bed, telling them sweet stories of their mother, the kinds Gaara liked. The front door clacked against its frame. It could only be her father and she leaped out of her sheets to greet him. Yashamaru called after her, but she ignored him and sped along the darkened hallway and found her father seated in the dimly lit kitchen, a glass in his hand. He didn't notice her. He stared at the portrait of mother and Yashamaru that hung on the opposite wall. The two siblings looked like twins in the old photo, though Karura had a softer, more feminine face.

He was drunk. She could smell it off him. His eyes were dark and his face haggard. He looked as if he hadn't slept for days. He took a swig of the dark murky liquid in his glass, and set it down on the table with a bang. She spied her certificate beneath it. A damp ring leeched through the paper, rippling at the metallic surfaces, and bleeding the ink.

Temari ran up to him and swiped the certificate from the table. His drink tipped onto its side. Rum spilled across the surface and he leaped out of his chair with a curse.

"You ruined my certificate," she said, trying to keep her voice from breaking. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. It was supposed to be perfect. He snatched it from her hands and it crumpled in his fist. He told her to shut up. It was just a piece of paper. He lit it on fire to show her.

"It's not fair," she shouted as he let it burn above the kitchen sink. Her hard work twisted and curled in the heat, flaking off in black crisps, and her childhood naivety burned with it. She just wanted him to be happy. Why couldn't he be happy? He grabbed her by the hair and wrenched her head back. Her scalp burned and her eyes stung and the smell of his stale breath made her cringe. _It's not fair, _he mocked savagely. _Go ahead, cry_. He shouted into her ear, pulling at her hair. _Cry because it isn't fair. _She screamed that she wasn't, she wasn't, _let go_. Yashamaru pulled him off her by the time her toes were almost off the floor and her head felt like it was on fire. She sat alone in the kitchen with her knees at her chest as the only two adults in her life fought outside. Hot tears streamed down her face. Kankurou peeked from the hall with Gaara at his heels. They watched her like observers at a zoo, nervous that the tiny caged animal might snap at their fingers if they got too close.

"Told you so," Kankurou whispered from where he stood. Gaara held his bear to his chest. She flushed at the pity in his voice and barked at them to leave her alone or she'd go over there and make them. She hated them. She hated everyone. And no one, not anyone, would make her cry again, because the only one she trusted was herself.

* * *

Shikamaru sat at the bench a few blocks from Tsunade's office, flicking Asuma's lighter on and off with the tip of his thumb. He sat in the shade but the pavement was hot and cooked him through, making his shirt stick and his forehead sweat. He ground his teeth and parked a wad of gum between his molars. It wasn't enough.

So the police knew Hidan was in town. They could search for him, but they wouldn't find him. And if they did, he'd just escape again. Would they even bother going after him? Asuma's case ended ages ago when the police realized it was hopeless trying to search for someone the Akatsuki were keeping under the radar. Perhaps they had bigger fish to fry. Shikamaru's fingers itched in his pockets.

It wasn't enough.

The Akatsuki wasn't the largest yakuza gang in Japan, but it certainly was the most powerful and notorious. Even those who weren't necessarily in Akatsuki but boasted of links and relations were generally feared. Hidan wasn't just a foot soldier though. He was a religious lunatic with a knife and had a position in the core of the group. He wouldn't be easy to track.

Shikamaru had half a mind to search for Hidan himself. He knew what Hidan looked like, from the memories and the posters. Shikamaru wasn't sure what he'd do if he found him, though. _An eye for an eye. _Ino told him not to freak out. This was probably what she meant.

The first thing he wanted was a smoke, and the last thing he wanted was a session with Tsunade. He looked at his watch. He'd better get going or the old lady would find some awful way to make up for the lost time. His feet didn't move. He felt heavy, and tired, and so sick of everything. It was a lot easier to stay where he was and dwell in his cloud-envy.

"Back at this bench, I see."

Temari stood with one hand on her hip while the other shielded her face from the sun. It was strange seeing her out of the leather jacket and combat boots. She almost looked soft with her breezy white tank. The material fluttered just above her navel revealing a very lean body, and her legs looked even longer with her slight heels. He had trouble staying focused on her face.

"Not rushing off to work?"

She took a seat beside him in the shade. "I called in sick."

He edged away from her. "Have you caught a summer cold?"  
"Nah, I just don't feel like going." They sat in silence for a moment, both staring at the wispy clouds in the distance. Cars crept by at a brutally slow pace and drivers assaulted their horns. The stillness with Temari was as comfortable as conversation, and he didn't want it to end. She didn't take her eyes off the sky. He wanted to know what she was thinking about in that impulsive head of hers; what made her bite her lips and stare off into space as if she had been transported to another world? Her shoulder brushed against his. "Do you want to go to the beach," she asked out of the blue.

"Now?"

"Yeah," she said, getting up and pulling her along with him. "Now. I could use a dip in the water. Are you game?"

"Alright," Shikamaru said, meeting her gaze. There was no point in fooling himself. He wasn't going to his appointment with Tsunade. He was getting caught up in Temari again, and he made a mental note to keep his head this time. She was leading him around like a dog on a leash, and he had the feeling she knew exactly what she was doing. She led him down the street to another bus and he hustled to keep up. They boarded the bus and squished themselves in to the crowded aisle, clinging desperately to the bars. Temari cursed as she was pushed into his chest, her chin at his shoulder. Her hair tickled his face.

"Comfortable," she said sarcastically. The bus rattled as it sped down the street. It was hot and sticky, and to make matters worse, Temari shifted against him, her hips bumping into his and her breath hot at his ear. He chewed furiously. Think of dead puppies. Think of old people_. Think of literally anything else._

"What are you doing," he asked through gritted teeth when she wouldn't keep still.

"I'm trying to find a comfortable way to stand." She groaned. "I'm not used to anything with a heel." Temari lifted one foot to rest it, grazing his leg along the way. He was torn between pushing her off and claiming her lips, neither of which was possible in their current situation. She was so much more than he could handle.

They made their way onto the Shonen-Shinjuku Line after escaping the close proximity of the bus. Shikamaru walked a couple paces behind Temari to cool his steaming head. It wasn't working so well. Her hips swayed as she followed the flow of traffic into the station. She noticed he was lagging behind and grabbed his arm.

"Where are we going," he asked once they found a seat on the strangely empty train. Advertisement after advertisement flew by as they raced through the city.

"Zushi," Temari said, propping her feet up on the seat opposite. She looked around before pulling her feet out of the peep-toe wedges. Little red marks lined her toes, and her heels blistered. She touched them gingerly and winced.

He had only been to Zushi once or twice, but he remembered seeing little wooden shacks lined up in the sand selling all sorts of summer sports and wear. "There are shops by the beach," Shikamaru muttered, grabbing the bandages she was applying gracelessly. They stuck together around her fingers in a useless gummy heap. He switched his seat and sat across from her, holding her foot in his lap. If she couldn't even put on bandages properly, medical job prospects were out of the question. "We can get you some flat shoes once we're there."

Temari looked at him uncertainly as he ripped open a fresh bandage. "I can do that myself."

He motioned to the waste stuck to her hands. "Sure you can."

She bit her lip and said no more, though she still regarded him suspiciously. "Thanks," she said cautiously, as if someone being kind to her was unknown territory. She held her wedges up in the light, turning them in her fingers mournfully. "Who knew something so pretty could hurt you so bad."

He nodded as he fixed up her heel, hoping her words didn't mean anything beyond her shoes.

**A/N: I didn't have a chance to respond to the reviews from last chapter, but I will now, just sorry for the lateness before-hand! This is kind of half the chapter I was intending to write, so I guess next time is part two. Reviews please! And don't be afraid to give constructive crits!**


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